


Go Places

by cm (mumblemutter)



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:32:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Point A to Point B (being entirely made up places).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Places

"Three days, give or take," Sam is saying, and Charles slides his hands into his pockets, decides not to ask why it is the government can't spring for airplane tickets. He focuses instead on Erik, who's staring at the car, this close to holding his hand out for the keys. "It's Moira's car," Charles murmurs to him, out of earshot from everyone else. "Besides, they're the only two that know where we're going."

"I disapprove," Erik says. And, "You keep doing that."

"I know. I will stop."

"Can you?"

Charles tries for a smile. "I can certainly try." He's never had to before, it's become second nature at this point to ignore the thoughts in favor of the words, no matter that they rarely match. Erik doesn't believe him, and why should he. Charles doesn't believe himself.

+

Charles gets stuck in the middle of the back seat because Raven wants to look out the window and Erik requires an exit strategy. Moira offers him the latest in a series of encouraging smiles from the front as they pull out of the parking lot, says, "It's not that long."

"It is, but we make do. It's quite all right, dear." He dismisses her to turn to Erik, but he's only staring studiously at the briefcase at his feet, mind carefully blank. Raven used to do the same thing before he made her that futile promise, long ago. It won't work on Erik, but Charles utters the words anyway, offers a soft, "I won't read your mind if it upsets you."

"It doesn't upset me," Erik responds immediately, but his mind is still focused on the appearance of calm. It's like a clear lake, mostly. All Charles has to do is plunge his face into the water.

Raven leans across Charles, elbowing him in the belly as she does so. Charles makes a soft noise, but holds on to her waist as she smiles at Erik. "You're amazing," she says. "What you can do." Her mind is bright, whirling with something akin to awe.

"And you?"

"What makes you think she can do anything," Charles cuts in.

"Well she's hardly CIA, is she?"

Raven flickers, takes on Erik's face, then Charles', then back to her blue form for the briefest of seconds before she returns to her own one. Erik only nods his head, silent approval radiating from him. "You're heavy," Charles says, shoving at her slightly until she settles back in her own seat, offering him a defiant smile. Raven would show off her ability to anyone if she could, despite years of Charles warning her to be careful.

"You're siblings then," Erik says, offering Charles a contemplative look.

"Not by blood, but yes."

"Charles is the big brother you never knew you wanted," Raven says, her voice soft and fond. She turns finally to stare out the window she was so insistent upon earlier.

"Everyone all right back there?" Moira asks, twisting around in her seat.

"Perfect, thank you," Charles says, beaming at her. She hesitates, then smiles back.

+

They stop for an early breakfast. When the waitress comes around Charles starts ordering for himself and Raven, adds, "He'll have the same as me," as Erik stares at the menu, then at Charles. No-one else notices when Erik puts the menu down.

"Yes, I suppose I'll have the same as him." He slides out of the booth. "Charles, a word."

"Be right back."

Moira flashes them a worried glance as they head outside, but Charles pushes her out of his head as Erik rounds on him. "Get out of my mind," he says, voice flat. He's not bothering to keep his thoughts calm or blank anymore.

"I'm sorry. I can't. This has never happened before."

"Okay." He turns around and stalks back inside. Heads towards the bathroom instead of their table, and Charles follows dutifully. It's not entirely a surprise when Erik shoves him against the closed door, but it is. More and somehow less pleasant than he'd expected it to be. "Get on your knees," Erik says, and Charles complies.

Erik pulls him up, after, and jerks him off, quick and efficiently; someone else comes to the door but Charles tells him to go away, and he does. When a calloused thumb brushes roughly across his jawline Charles has to turn his cheek into the door, just to keep himself grounded. It doesn't work very well, Erik picks up speed and Charles moans, open mouthed, and comes. "Why did you just do that," and he's breathless and shaking and he can still hear Erik's thoughts - he's not sure why he still bothers with talking. Why they both are, words seem entirely inadequate and yet here they are, in a restroom, Charles leaning against the door and trying to ensure his pants don't fall to the ground, shaping words with their mouths.

"It seemed. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"It certainly wasn't the most prominent thought in my mind, no."

"Hmm," Erik says, and doesn't believe him.

The table is silent when they return, and it's only shattered when Raven says, "Glad to see you're still in one piece, Charles. I was getting worried." To Erik she continues, "You get used to him after a while, really."

The food's arrived, so Erik picks up his fork and knife and says noncommittally, "I suppose one does." He stares at the plate. "I never eat my eggs this way."

"Don't you," Charles replies. "Try it anyway. You never know until you try."

+

Charles sifts through memories, thoughts, emotions. They war with his own, and it isn't that he's not used to sharing his head with everyone else's thoughts, it's that it's so much information, all at once. He leans his head back against the car seat and says, "I've never stabbed a man through the heart before." Lifts his hands to his face as evidence of that.

"What did you say," Erik asks.

"Nothing," Charles replies. Erik's memories aren't his own.

"Stop it," Erik says, pulling both of Charles' arms down by the wrists. He holds on to them a second too long, enough for Raven to stop staring out the window, blink at the both of them in idle surprise, before she loses interest once again, dismisses the possibility. Charles is her _brother._ He's boring, and Erik is anything but.

"I'm not," Charles protests headily.

"You are losing it," Erik says sternly.

"Quite possibly, yes."

+

In a convenience store, Erik prowls the aisles, larger than life and eliciting worried glances from the clerk, until Charles sidles up next to him and murmurs, "Would you like to go someplace more private."

"I don't know. Would you?"

"I would, yes."

"All right then."

This restroom is cleaner than the other one. Sam's in a stall, Charles pulls Erik into the one furthest from it and covers his mouth with his hand. Erik is displeased, he displaces Charles' arm and pushes him back against the stall divider, shoving his knee in between Charles' legs.

"You're angry with me," Charles says, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"No." Erik frowns. "When you said you were like me -"

"I am. We are."

"No-one's like you, Charles." A toilet flushes, and a door clicks open. Charles shakes his head mutely as they both listen to Sam washing his hands. There's a brief pause after he closes the tap, but then he's gone. "Did he know we were in here?"

"How would I -"

"Charles."

"He doesn't anymore," Charles says, but Erik only tightens his grip in response. His knee is still jammed in between Charles' legs. It's distracting. He pushes himself up onto the balls of his feet, then settles down. Metal. Erik senses every piece of metal on him. That's distracting as well. "You should kiss me," Charles says. "I would like that."

Afterwards, Charles stares at his reflection in the mirror. His hair is mussed and his lips are slightly swollen. Erik, on the other hand, looks exactly as he did a half-hour ago. Erik washes his hands and when Charles blinks at him he says, "This, of all things, irritates you?"

"You shouldn't be able to tell," is all Charles can think to say.

"Do you only feel comfortable when it works the one way."

"Yes. No." He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. "It's exhausting," he says, unnecessarily.

"Come along," Erik tells him. "Your CIA agent is waiting."

When they emerge, Moira is waiting for them by the car. "That took a while," she says. "Is everything all right."

"Yes," Erik says shortly, sliding into the back seat and slamming the door.

"Everything's fine, love," Charles says, staring after Erik, ignoring the sharp burst of annoyance until it becomes too much to bear. Then he snaps his attention to her, along with a reassuring smile. "Shall we move on, then."

"Your sister's still buying her drink," Moira says, the annoyance muting somewhat, her suspicion abating. "Charles -"

"I'll just wait in the car then." He opens the door and Erik moves inwards, allows him to climb in.

"You should like her more," he murmurs to Erik. "She's a lovely young woman."

"I barely like you," Erik says, and he means it as well, even as it's a lie, even as he presses his thigh against Charles'. "I'm not here to make friends."

"So you keep saying."

+

They take three rooms, one for the ladies and two for the men. Erik mentions not minding sleeping on the floor, his thoughts flashing from how he's slept in far worse to not particularly wanting to be alone in a room with Charles. "I'll share with Sam," Charles says amiably. "I know how you value your privacy."

"We will? Uh, sure -" Sam blusters. He suspects, but has no opinion on the matter beyond worrying about shifting loyalties. Curiously forward, for an Agency man.

"Do you," Erik cuts in.

"Do I what?"

"Know how I value my privacy."

"Ah. Well." He drops the room key in Erik's outstretched hand, as Erik continues to project exasperation. Or pretends to, at least. Charles isn't entirely convinced.

"Nicely done," Raven whispers to him. "What's gotten into you. You're usually so much better at this."

"I have a headache," Charles replies, and that at least is true.

+

Sam is deep in slumber within two minutes, with Charles' help; the man carries too much body weight and stress to fall asleep easily otherwise. Charles stalks around the room for at least another fifteen before he gives up and heads out.

"Go away, Charles," Erik calls out, even as he's opening the door.

"Stop saying that and meaning otherwise," Charles protests, as Erik drags him by his belt buckle without using his hands, and shuts the door the same way. It's faintly humiliating, as he stumbles, and Erik displays a brief, petty flare of amusement. "Stop doing that as well."

"No." He points to the bed, but allows Charles to clumsily settle down on it, sans shoes. Erik is wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, Charles notices belatedly. Wet hair and faint sheen of moisture on his body. Erik tosses the towel onto a nearby chair, entirely out of spite, and shoos at Charles until Charles makes room on the bed for him. "I was taking a shower," he says pointedly, pleased.

Charles must have his mouth open, then. He shuts it abruptly, says, "Now I feel overdressed."

"We can fix that."

"Thanks, but I am perfectly comfortable like this." He crosses his arms across his chest petulantly. "Why does me being flustered turn you on?"

"It just does," Erik says. "I'm savoring the small pleasures, now."

"It's not as if I can help it, Erik." Charles groans. The couple next door have stopped tentatively circling one another and have decided to skip the foreplay to go straight to the rutting. Even Erik hears them, two seconds after Charles does. He laughs, amused for a while, as the bedsprings creak and the woman starts moaning obscenely. "They're not married to each other," Charles says.

"How very inappropriate."

"The man's having a far better time than the woman is, despite all evidence to the contrary." If he pushes, perhaps he can speed them up enough that they'll shut up soon. "She's mostly worried that her husband will come home early from work and realize she's gone. Or worse, that he won't."

"But it doesn't -"

"Sloppy second-hand adulterous lust? Hardly." Charles curls up his lip, and Erik continues to remain amused, if increasingly irritated by the racket next door.

"Is it like this, all the time." Erik raises a fist to the adjoining wall, but pauses before he hits it, letting his hand rest lightly against it instead.

"I can shut it out well enough. It took years though."

"I don't have years, Charles." His other hand comes up, fingers spanning across Charles' collarbone, thumb slipping under the open collar of his shirt.

"This is hardly going to help," Charles says, even as he licks his lips and slides down, moves until he's positioned enough to lower his head. Erik's hand shifts to the back of his neck, a steady, if unnecessary, guide.

"Yes, but does it -" He gasps slightly.

Charles hums, breaks free for a moment to say, "No, not really." Lying, and Erik doesn't believe him for a second.

+

Charles gets in on the opposite side of the car this time, ignores Raven's grumbling as she has to move to the middle. She settles down soon enough, lolls her head against his shoulder as they keep driving. Moira says tentatively, "I could put on some music," offering up a smile in Erik's direction, but mostly she's thinking about how much she doesn't trust him, if he should be afforded any kind of security clearance, and if they'll be able to extract any kind of information regarding Shaw from him at all. The answer to all is no, but Charles smooths her worries away, quietly and delicately, and after a while she just turns away and switches on the radio.

"We're almost there," he tells Erik.

"Yes, I know," Erik says. He stretches his arm along the back seat, his fingers trailing briefly along Charles' neck, but then he stops.

+

Charles comes out of the restroom, the third time they disappear for far too long and Erik pushes him back, says, "Wait a while, then follow." He counts to sixty, adjusts his coat and tries to look overall more presentable, and by the time he emerges Erik and Moira are leaning against the car, sharing a cigarette. There's a faint air of tolerance about them that wasn't there less than an hour ago.

"Is everything all right," he asks. They shoot each other a look that's far more amused than it has any right to be, especially since most of the amusement is directed at him.

"Everything's fine," Erik says, taking the cigarette from Moira and inhaling deeply.

"We should get back on the road." Moira adjusts her coat and pushes herself off the car. "Come along, Charles," she says merrily.

Erik leans forward, and says, low and cheerful, "Don't worry. We were only saying the nicest things about you."

+

In the morning, Raven is radiating low level anxiety at everyone, but most especially Charles, for no reason that Charles cares to discern. "Are you quite all right," he asks, at some point, when it seems uncaring not to.

Raven's lips tug downwards. "I'm fine. Tired. I don't know, Charles." Her voice turns faint. "Do you think he likes me?"

"What, as a prospective suitor? This is hardly the time."

"Oh god, I didn't mean it like that." She stomps away in a flurry of hurt feelings and pride, and a profound sense of disappointment. Once again and yet again. He almost calls out an apology, but they're becoming useless at this point.

Erik's leaning against the hood of the car, two cups of coffee in his hand. He passes her one; it was meant for Charles, a second ago. She tilts her head up and beams at him as he says something Charles doesn't catch, her smile as bright as her golden hair in the sun.

"Are we ready to get going, Charles." Moira's cheerful today, despite Raven not trusting her enough to say more than ten words to her the previous night. Possibly he'd been too harsh, trying to drill a sense of caution in her head. "Your sister's lovely," Moira says, and she means it.

"So are you," Charles replies automatically, and her smile falters, but she recovers gamely, pats him on the arm as she walks past.

"Here," Erik says pointedly, when Charles finally wanders up to the car. He deposits his own cup of coffee into Charles' hand.

"Isn't this yours."

"You look as if you need it more than I do."

Charles stretches his shoulders out. "Uncomfortable bed. Could hardly get any sleep." Raven's already in the car, and Moira's busy discussing plans with Sam, who's the most rested of all of them.

"It's better today." Charles takes a sip of his coffee and makes a face. "There's no sugar in this."

"Yes, I know. But you might like it that way."

"No, I'm certain I -" He takes another tentative sip. "It's not so bad, I suppose."

+

"It was only a matter of time before the CIA started putting women in the field," Erik says, deliberately not thinking about that agent he had to eliminate in Prague, for reasons that are entirely justifiable to him and very much less so to Charles. It's like trying not to think of pink elephants. You might as well be shouting it from the rooftops.

"Yes, I suppose," Moira says non-commitally. She's still undecided as to whether she even likes Erik at all. Erik is utterly neutral. He would kill her without blinking if it ever became necessary. Charles twitches reflexively and Erik kicks him, just a touch too hard for it to be friendly, with the heel of his boot.

"It helps to be underestimated in some situations," Erik says.

Raven leans across Charles to smile at Erik. "I'd make a great agent, I think."

"You would be quite excellent at disguises."

"Would I have to learn how to kill someone with my bare feet?"

"I really don't think so," Charles says, just as Erik goes, "One does have to learn how to defend oneself."

"Stop the car." Sam screeches the car to a halt, throwing everyone forward. "Sorry," Charles mutters, as everyone else in the car radiates confusion save for Raven, who only elbows him crabbily. "Out of the car," he orders Erik.

"Make me." Erik's eyes narrow slightly.

"Do you want me to?"

Erik opens the car door without breaking eye contact and steps out. Angry now, and it's interesting. Different. His anger is cool, the calm surface of a pond hiding too deep waters. Charles scrambles out after him and Erik slams the door behind them both. When Raven scoots over and pokes her head out Charles freezes everyone, grateful that they're on a deserted stretch of highway and it's only the five of them.

"What did you do," Erik asks, waving a hand in front of Moira's still face, trapped in an expression of perplexity. He's only the slightest bit impressed. Mostly he's irate. And a little bit hard.

"I thought some privacy, perhaps."

A muscle in the side of Erik's face twitches. "As easy as that."

"Look," Charles says. "My sister's very impressionable."

"Is that why you dragged us out here." He's decidedly not thinking about Raven, and Charles' breath quickens, despite himself. He can't remember if he's supposed to be angry as well. Indignant, at least. "Well," Erik demands.

"Well," Charles says, his breath caught in his throat. He shifts uneasily, and it's apparently enough for Erik to drop to his knees. "We can't," Charles says desperately. "I can't and control the environment at the same time." Erik ignores him, of course he does.

"I'm certain you can," Erik says, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick his palm. "Or learn fast."

+

Charles mutters, "I've known you for three days, Erik," and Erik puts on his sunglasses, leans his head back against the car seat and says absolutely nothing at all.


End file.
